Fifty Shades of Destiel
by Maknatuna
Summary: Fifty drabbles of how Dean, Castiel and Sam live at the bunker.
1. Chapter 1

**_This fic will have 50 short, funny, angsty, fluffy, sexy drabbles from Dean's and Cas' lives at the bunker._**

**_Reviews are loved and they give motivation to write faster._**

* * *

The funny and the most unexpected thing is that the fallen angel hates showering. No one knows what the real reason is. Is it because Cas feels lazy? Or is it because a kitten is his spirit animal and, like all cats, he hates water?

At first it'd been bearable, and not that noticeable, but after a few days of not seeing Castiel showering, Dean had started to scrunch his nose, and had started grumbling something about the smell of dead rats. The fallen angel had not paid any attention to the complaints, sitting quietly on the couch and watching some stupid movie.

It reaches its culmination after they return from a hunt bloody, dirty, and in torn clothes. Castiel plops down on the couch, closing his eyes and stretching his aching limbs with a small sigh. He looks like he's gonna fall asleep any minute. And that's when Dean loses it. He drops his bag on the floor and pads over to Castiel.

"Get up!" he demands angrily.

The ex-angel opens his eyes in surprise. "Is there something wrong, Dean?" he asks quietly.

"Yes! I can't take it anymore!" Dean yells and grabs Castiel's arm, tugging him forward violently. Castiel manages to make a small "oompff" sound and nothing more, as he finds himself thrown over Dean's shoulder. The hunter drags him into the bathroom.

The god-awful noises coming from the bathroom draw the younger Winchester's attention and he comes out of the kitchen, where he's been cooking a dinner. Due to his injured leg, Dean refused to take him on a hunt with them.

Sam gets closer to the bathroom and this is what he hears:

"Cas, for fuck's sake, stop wriggling!"

"Dean, put me down! No, I do not want to get into the shower cabin!"

"No way in hell! You reek, dude! And close your mouth if you don't want it full of water!"

"I don't think… blaalfkbslfbakvfavfv…"

"Told you to close your mouth!"

Sam just giggles like a child and tiptoes to the kitchen, while Castiel keeps gurgling and splashing, making Dean curse like a drunk sailor.


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

Castiel's feet are always cold. No, not cold, but frozen, like icebergs floating in an ocean. It's really ridiculous. No matter how many socks he wears, they don't help. Well, in summer it's bearable; it even feels nice when his cold feet make sudden contact with Dean's skin. But Dean is ready to strangle (as he threatens) the ex-angel if it happens in winter time. One may wonder how it's possible for Dean to feel Castiel's cold feet through so many socks. The thing is that "feathery ass", as Dean calls him, always takes them off before going to sleep and snuggling with Dean.

_It's so cold around him. His teeth are chattering as he makes his way through the blizzard. It's impossible to see anything in the distance. He should have listened to Sam and stayed at the station, but of course he didn't listen to the wise words. Why? Simply because he's a stubborn ass._

"_Fuck this shit," Dean grumbles and strains his eyes to see the light coming out of their expedition station. With the speed of a turtle, he moves in the right direction, making cautious steps on the ice. He wraps his coat around himself tightly, trying to stop shivering when he hears a loud cracking sound, followed by another and another. Before Dean reacts, the ice breaks and collapses underneath him. A shout of fear is trapped in his throat as he submerges into the freezing and dark oblivion. His lungs scream for air and he desperately tries to swim up to the hole in ice, but some invisible force just keeps dragging him to the bottom. Dean flounders and fights with all his remaining strength, which is fading quickly. Someone up there, probably in heaven, gets tired of his miserable flailing and decides to give him a kick in the ass – push him towards the hole. Dean grabs the edge of it and dives out with a long inhale…_

The older Winchester does not realize immediately that he's lying in his bed, all tangled up in the comforter, breathing loud and fast. "What the fuck was I doing in the North Pole? What a stupid dream." He wipes sweat off of his forehead with a trembling hand. "But why do I feel like I've gotta brick of ice in my stomach?" he grumbles quietly and turns the bedside lamp on. His question is answered immediately.

Castiel is lying on his back, sprawled out and portraying a perfect starfish. It seems that throughout the night he has changed his sleeping position and now his cold feet are resting on Dean's stomach.

"Oh maaan," the older Winchester exclaims exasperatedly. "You dumbass," he hisses, but in the end fondness takes over. He gingerly removes Castiel's feet and sits up to pull the ex-angel closer. The dark haired man makes some incoherent sounds but instinctively, without waking up, grabs Dean's T-shirt and buries his face into the hunter's neck.

Dean chuckles and places a small kiss on Castiel's head, wrapping his hands around the smaller man's frame. He couldn't care less about his stomach feeling like ice or Castiel's cold feet as long he can keep the ex-angel like this - sleeping peacefully in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Winter sneaks up on them unexpectedly, bringing a lot of snow. Dean has never liked this specific season because of the freezing cold, and how everything gets coated with ice, but seeing Castiel all delighted about it makes him softer inside and he stops being a "grumpy jerk", as Sam calls him.

It's warm and cozy in the bunker compared to the weather outside. It's been snowing for two days and the ground is covered with knee-high snow. Sam's doing research, trying to find any useful info about a strange creature they've never met before. Apparently it's something between a human and a panther with a wicked sense of humor. The hunters have found out it does not kill people, just scares the shit out of them and runs away with manic laughter. The story told by four different victims is identical: a hybrid of a man and a panther with glowing eyes, attacking them in dark alleys and then disappearing. They also confirm the presence of a tail, claws, and long, sharp teeth.

"I don't think it's necessary to kill him," Sam closes his laptop and sighs. He has learned nothing more than he already knows. "Maybe all we gotta do is talk and knock some sense into him. What do you thi…" Sam is interrupted by loud snores.

Dean is snoring on the couch, head resting on Castiel's shoulder. The ex-angel just smiles at Sam, not wanting to move and disturb his human's sleep.

"That's what happens when you stay up all night." Sam shakes his head in disbelief. "I'll go alone, you stay with him."

Castiel nods. He's sure that Sam will be fine and there's nothing to worry about. The creature doesn't seem to be evil – well, at least it doesn't kill humans.

"Be careful, Sam," he adds anyways.

"Right. I don't know when I'll be back, it may take hours. And don't catch cold. I know Dean will drag you outside for snowball fights." Sam sounds like a clucking mother hen.

* * *

Exactly one hour after Sam leaves, both Dean and Castiel are soaking wet and flushed red. The hunter is chasing Castiel with a big snowball in his hand and hollering how he's gonna catch that "little son of a bitch" and bury him in snow for sneaking up on him from behind and putting snow into his pants.

Castiel just keeps running and he's making his tenth lap around the bunker. He emits small gasps when Dean catches up, but giggles when the hunter slips and falls in the snow, cursing loudly. He's torn between helping Dean and running. But in the end decides to help the hunter, as Dean is not moving and keeps eerily silent.

"Dean? Are you alright?" Castiel sounds worried. "Are you hurt?" He takes a few steps towards the hunter, who's lying face down in the snow. There's no answer and Castiel starts to panic. What if Dean got hurt?

"Dean, please talk to me!" The ex-angel kneels beside the older Winchester and touches his shoulder. He makes a shocked cry when suddenly Dean attacks him, pins him to the ground and holds his wrists above his head with one hand.

"You thought you'd get away with this, didn't ya, Cas? Payback is a bitch, babe!" he chuckles and rolls Castiel's sweater and t-shirt up to his chest with his free hand.

"Dean, it's not fair," Castiel squirms under him. "You're playing dirty. I thought you were hurt."

"All is fair in love and war!"

"What war? Are we…" Castiel squeals shamelessly when Dean flips him over easily and stuffs his jeans with snow. "Dean, stop it!"

"Make me!"

The challenge is accepted and Castiel manages to break free from Dean's grip. He jumps at the hunter with a battle cry (thanks to Spartacus, which they've been watching for a week). Their limbs entangle, their breath mingling, and they keep rolling in the snow for a good five minutes with unsuppressed laughter.

"I think we should get inside." Dean looks up at Castiel, who's straddling his hips. "I don't think I have a dry spot on my body."

"Good idea," Castiel agrees. "But only after I do this." He leans forward, closing the gap between their lips, kissing the hunter slowly but lustfully. Dean moans into the kiss, grabbing the ex-angel's hips.

* * *

At 4AM, Sam Winchester receives a text message from Castiel. The younger Winchester is sitting in the car, spying on the monster, which is nowhere to be seen. Sam opens the message, which says:

"_Dean has a fever and a sore throat. What should I do?_"

Sam groans, realizing that they'd gotten sick during a snowball fight, despite his warnings. He quickly types the reply:

"_Put a face mask on. Dean has a virus, you can get infected. Make him hot soup. Medicines are in the cupboard in the kitchen_."

Sam just hopes that Castiel has enough brain not to kiss or snuggle with Dean 'till he gets better. He sighs and drinks his eighth cup of coffee, still waiting for that damn creature to show up.

* * *

A very pissed off Sam Winchester returns to the bunker late in the afternoon. The Panther Man never showed up, so the hunter was basically wasting his time. He opens the door with his spare keys and frowns when he's met with dead silence. It's strange because at this time both, Dean and Castiel would usually be awake.

Sam walks to his brother's room and sees the slightly ajar door. He can hear labored breathing and wheezing sounds. He pushes the door open.

The younger Winchester groans exasperated and rolls his eyes. Why does no one ever listen to him in this house – or this bunker, to be precise?

"What did I tell you? Why didn't you follow my instructions?" He throws his arms in the air.

There's a loud blowing nose sound and a 'creature' which is barely seen under too many blankets, greets him hoarsely:

"Hello, Sam."

Sam Winchester knows that he's screwed, but he can't do anything about it. With a dramatic sigh he leaves Dean's bedroom and thinks of a plan how to bring these two idiots back to health.


	4. Chapter 4

It's very quiet at the bunker. Of course it is, it's only 7AM and everyone is asleep. Well, almost everyone, except Castiel.

Today is a special day: it's Dean's birthday. For a good five minutes, Castiel struggles in the older Winchester's arms to free himself, ignoring Dean's growls of annoyance in his sleep at Castiel trying to move. After some panting and squirming, he manages to leave the bed, puts on his sweatpants and flannel shirt, and tiptoes towards the kitchen in socks. He has a plan and must hurry up before the Winchesters wake up.

After three hours, the brothers find Castiel standing at the table in the kitchen. He's covered in flour, some egg yolks, sugar, and some other stains (Sam makes a mental note to do some research about them later).

"Cas, what the…" Dean begins, but the ex-angel cuts in.

"Happy birthday, Dean." Castiel looks so pleased and proud of himself, grinning widely. "I made you an apple pie."

The brunette takes the pie out of the oven and places it on the table. Dean just shifts his gaze from the pie to Castiel. His mouth is hanging open, the face showing utter confusion.

"Thanks, Cas." Finally he recovers from his shock and crushes the ex-angel in a bear hug. Castiel's bones make a crunching sound and he has difficulty breathing.

"You're welcome, Dean. Though, I would appreciate if you didn't strangle me."

"Sorry, sorry." Dean mumbles and releases the smaller man from the embrace.

Meanwhile Sam places three plates on the table and pours steamy black coffee into their mugs.

"Try it, Dean," Castiel's eyes are shining, waiting impatiently for the verdict.

Dean puts a huge slice of the pie on his plate and places a forkful into his mouth. He chews for a few seconds and then… hardly swallows.

"Why did you stop? Don't you like it?" Castiel asks cautiously, his face dropping.

And Dean feels like an asshole. "No, no it's fantastic, Cas. See? I like it!" Dean continues eating, despite the fact that his eyes are watering and soon tears start to roll down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Dean?" Castiel asks, bewildered by the look on the hunter's face.

"Because… because I'm touched…" Dean manages to swallow, wiping his eyes.

"That's nice to hear." The ex-angel smiles, but then adds suspiciously, "I can understand that you were touched by this mere gesture, but why is Sam crying?"

Both Castiel and the older Winchester stare at Sam, who's choking silently and sniffling, poking the pie with his fork.

"I… I'm just happy for you," Sam blurts out and sips his coffee.

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel gives him a small nod. "I don't want to eat the pie right now. I will have only coffee. If you don't mind I will go and get my phone to take a picture of you with the pie, Dean." The ex-angel leaves the kitchen with hurried steps.

As soon as Castiel is out of the room, Sam leans forward and hisses: "Don't you dare tell him!"

"I won't, dumbass," Dean growls in reply and puts two glasses of water on the table, which are emptied instantly.

Of course he will not tell the blue-eyed man that he has mixed up the two wooden boxes where they keep the salt and sugar and that the pie is saltier than the Red Sea. Castiel is happy and that's what matters to Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

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* * *

Dean does not know when Castiel became such a "little manipulative son of a bitch", as he called him in anger, but the ex-angel's decision is firm and final.

Dean cringes, recalling Castiel's words: "No pets, no sex." It's been almost a month since Castiel started asking him to get a dog or a cat, but Dean had been playing deaf, ignoring the brunette's requests. Until one day.

Castiel had caught him in the bathroom brushing his teeth. Dean had almost swallowed and choked on his toothbrush when the blue-eyed man slammed him into the wall, holding him there effectively with his arm pressed to the hunter's throat.

"I want a pet," Castiel growls. "Sam wants it too. You are the only one who objects and you are holding a minority position."

"Cas," Dean wheezes, toothbrush falling out of his mouth. "We can't have pets in the bunker. They… they shit and piss and all that crap. They need to be taken care of and we ain't got time for that."

"I can take care of it, Dean. I will do everything that is necessary," Castiel assures him, but the hunter is uncompromising.

"I said no. End of story. Capisce?"

Castiel removes his arm from Dean's neck and looks him in the eyes. He may not be an angel anymore, but this look still gives chills to the hunter.

"Fine. But I have my own terms. No pets, no sex. Capisce, Dean?" Castiel walks out of the bathroom, leaving the confused hunter there with a gaping mouth and toothpaste smeared all over his lips.

* * *

The small hope that Castiel would forget about his threat starts wearing out as the days go by and the ex-angel continues to sleep on the couch in the living room. Sam does not question what's the matter with them, he knows the answer.

On twenty sixth day, Dean breaks. He can't stand it anymore. He hasn't jerked off so many times in the shower since he was a teen. Castiel doesn't seem to be doing better either. He's grumpy and snarky in the mornings, like a girl on her period.

"Alright, go and get your damn pet. But if it shits on the carpet, you'll clean it up with your bare hands." Dean throws his plate in the sink, flinching at the clanking sound it makes.

"Thank you," Castiel's voice is beyond happy and he looks at Sam. The younger Winchester just chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. "I'll go with you to the nearest shelter."

They are back after three hours and Castiel looks disastrous. He's got scratches all over his face and hands, some of them still bleeding. There are some teeth marks too and Dean hopes they are not from a monster.

"What the hell?" the hunter mumbles as he looks at rumpled Castiel, who does not seem to mind his terrible state.

"He chose a kitten. When we took him out of the cage, he slipped out of the caretaker's hands and three of us were trying to catch him. Cas got to him first and, as you see, the kitten rewarded him generously," Sam laughs, recalling the incident.

"Serves you right," Dean mutters to himself. "And where is the culprit?" he adds louder.

"Here." Castiel unzips his jacket, revealing the small criminal.

It's a small black kitten, with only one green eye. His second ear is half missing as well. Tufts of fur are missing in some places.

"What the fuck is this?" Dean frowns. "You could not choose anything better?"

Castiel stops petting the kitten, which mewls impatiently, kneading the ex-angel's shirt with its paws. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Dean. As the caretaker told us, no one wanted to take him home, as they did not consider him as beautiful as the other animals. I want to make him happy here. He can have everything that he lacked before. Now excuse me, I have to feed Hannibal."

"Come again? Who?" Dean narrows his eyes.

"Hannibal," repeats Castiel. "He was a Carthaginian commander and lost one of his eyes while crossing Apennines. This kitten is a lot like him, with his will and spirit to fight for his life." With these words, Castiel leaves the brothers standing dumbstruck.

* * *

That night Sam Winchester truly wishes he was dead or deaf because of the unholy sounds coming out of his older brother's room. He buries his head under the pillow, holding it down with both hands but he can still hear "Harder, Dean!", "Oh, fuck… Cas". He knows that he won't be able to sleep that night, so just goes to the living room and sits down next to Hannibal, who's curled up into a ball, purring contently.

Sam just turns on the TV, turning up the volume, and tries his best not to pay attention to horizontal tango in the next room, accompanied by bed banging against a wall.


	6. Chapter 6

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* * *

Castiel hates when he loses in Poker. Why? Because the brothers make him do silly things. Especially Dean. And why is he so unlucky in cards? But, of course, he doesn't really care about being lucky at cards, as long as he'd not unlucky in love.

Castiel throws his cards down and glares at Dean, who's snickering, eyes sparkling with mischievous fire. Oh, that's not good. Because that means he has a terrible idea.

"Cas, I was thinking," Dean begins, but starts to snort with suppressed laughter. He instantly clears his throat and begins again. "Right, I was thinking that this time I'd give you an easier task, not like the last one, when you had to wear stilettos for the whole day."

"I'm starting to believe that you're taking pleasure in torturing me," the ex-angel sulks, leaning against his chair.

"Oh, come on, Cas, it's not torture, it's called fun!" Dean throws his hands in the air as a sign of frustration. "Besides, no one was forcing you to play the damn game!"

Castiel pouts and frowns. Dean is right, it's his own fault, so he has to man up and take what's coming to him.

He exhales sharply. "Alright, what do you want me to do this time?"

Dean cheers up instantly. "Nothing special. You just have to say a line or two when I tell you."

Castiel considers the terms and comes to the conclusion that it shouldn't be too bad.

* * *

They are at the supermarket, standing in a checkout line with a cart full of groceries. Castiel is tired and he wants to get to the bunker as soon as possible, where he can plop down on their couch, eat pizza, and watch some silly movies.

The cashier finishes putting their groceries in bags and Dean pays for the products. He's about to walk away when a sly smile spreads on his lips. The hunter leans towards Castiel and whispers something into his ear. The ex-angel flinches and swallows nervously. Meanwhile, Dean takes out his cell phone and winks and the smaller man.

* * *

"Come on, Cas, it was a joke!"

"It was stupid, Dean! I felt ashamed of what I did!"

Sam hears their yelling and comes out to the living room. Castiel looks pissed, while Dean is trying his best to stifle his giggling.

"What happened?" Sam folds his arms on his chest. Dean must've done something stupid, judging by his expression.

Castiel just storms to the kitchen. Soon after, loud clanking and rattling sounds start to pour from the room, indicating that the ex-angel started to cook dinner.

Dean coughs and passes his phone to the younger Winchester. Sam pushes "play" and stares at the screen, where Castiel is looking at a confused cashier with a deadly serious face and squinted eyes.

"What's he doing?" Sam mumbles, and his question is answered immediately.

"_We swears, to serve the master of the Precious. We will swear on… on the Precious!" _Castiel's voice fills the room, perfectly mimicking Gollum's voice.

Dean starts to laugh hysterically; even Sam can't help but chuckle. The only person who is not pleased is the ex-angel (he smashes three plates deliberately).

"You're an idiot, Dean." Sam shakes his head. "Go and apologize to him."

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean grins and steps towards the kitchen. He stops midway, turning to his brother. "Should I wear a helmet?"


	7. Chapter 7

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* * *

**Chapter 7**

Hunger is a fearsome beast and there is no escape from it. It does not care who you are – male, female, adult, child, animal, bird, or anything else. It has no mercy. When it catches up, all you can do is yield.

Like any other person, Team Free Will falls prey to it.

They have just returned from a hunt, which was surprisingly short. Dean is humming some old rock tune, which is a clear sign that he's satisfied with the results.

As soon as they enter the bunker, their stomachs make such loud growling sounds that there is a moment of confusion, making them think of a beast hiding in a corner of the bunker. But soon Sam realizes that it's just their stomachs reminding them of food.

"Right, shower's first, then time to eat." Dean claps his hands.

"The fridge is empty. We have nothing to eat," The younger Winchester declares.

"Not a big deal. We can always go to a diner, you know?" Dean yells from somewhere between the living room and the bathroom.

Sam clicks his tongue. It's been a while since they've gone to a diner, so why not? "Is there any particular place you'd like to go, Cas?" He turns to his ex-angelic friend.

"Umm…" Castiel scratches his head. "I don't know. It doesn't matter to me."

"I don't care either. As long as they serve salad, I'm fine."

They choose a small Mexican cafe and the food is fantastic. So far Dean has eaten two burritos, three enchiladas, and five baskets of chips on his own. Castiel has chosen to try a corn tostada, and as for Sam, he's decided to stick with his favorite salad crap.

"Dean, you're gonna explode soon," Sam shakes his head in disbelief, looking at his brother, who looks like a hamster with stuffed cheeks.

"Fwafaf Shfwamy," Dean mumbles and grins.

"Gross," the younger Winchester states with bitchface No. 31a/49.

Castiel just continues to eat his tostada quietly, silently hoping that all those beans which Dean has eaten will not have an effect on him later.

* * *

Sam wakes up at three in the morning. Actually, he's woken up by loud bickering coming out of Dean's room. He rubs his eyes and sits up in the bed.

"Stop yelling, Cas. Goddammit!"

"No, I won't, Dean! It's impossible to sleep in here without a gas mask!"

"For fuck's sake, now you're just exaggerating!"

"No I'm not, Dean! It smells like something crawled into this room and died. I can't breathe!"

"Fine! You can go and sleep on the couch if you want. I don't care!"

"Great! That's exactly what I'll do. I have no intention to die here because someone ate too many beans!"

At this point Sam just throws his head back and cackles manically. It's too much fun. He can easily imagine Castiel's pissed off face. Meanwhile, the ex-angel passes by his room, muttering something about selfish people who don't give a crap about others.

"Hey, Dean," Sam calls suddenly. He's chuckling and trying not to burst into roaring laughter.

"What?" the older Winchester snaps at him from his room, where he's alone now.

"Have I ever told you that I always wanted to call you a different name?" Sam says in a serious voice.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean yells and falls silent, but after a few seconds adds: "And what name was that?"

"Gas-bag," Sam cackles, unable to control his laughter.

"That's it. You're dead!" Dean shouts and judging by the sounds, he's running towards Sam's room.

The younger Winchester jumps out of his bed, still shaking from laughter, and locks the door to protect himself from enraged Dean.


	8. Chapter 8

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* * *

**Chapter 8**

"Dean, what are you doing?" Castiel asks curiously, looking at the hunter, who is busy panting and dragging something heavy into the center of the living room.

"I'm trying to make this place livable again," Dean growls.

"What is that?" Castiel points at the square thing with a long hose Dean has just hauled in.

Dean gives him an incredulous look. "Dude, don't tell me you've never seen this shit before."

The ex angel simply shrugs. "I would not have asked if I had seen it before. What does it do?"

The older Winchester sighs. "It sucks in dust, dirt, and all that crap. Just watch," he explains in irritation before he presses the button to turn on the thing.

Dean begins to laugh and cannot stop for twenty minutes. His laughing turns into howling and he clutches his sides, rolling on the floor in hysteria, because Castiel has never seen or heard a vacuum cleaner before and the ex angel jumps almost 5 feet in the air from fear when the friggin' thing startles him with its Goddamnn awful sound.

All these unearthly sounds draw Sam Winchester out of the library and into the living room, where his older brother is cackling on the floor while Castiel looks scared shitless, retreating slowly, and he does not notice Hannibal, who's trying to hide under a chair.

"Cas, watch out!" Sam yells warningly, but it's too late, the ex angel steps on the kitten's tail. The scream the cat makes is hundred times worse than the damn vacuum cleaner, and the little fur ball jumps up, sinking its sharp claws into Castiel's ass.

Quite a long time passes before they find shaking Castiel, who's hiding in the closet, refusing to leave the place. They give him some sedatives, drag Hannibal from behind the refrigerator, give him fuckloads of fish, and send him off to his sleeping basket. The vacuum cleaner is returned to its previous keeping place as Dean continues to nervously giggle, while his younger brother is telling him what an idiot he is.


	9. Chapter 9

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Time for some angst

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Castiel hates rain. The brothers have recently found out that the ex-angel gets very uncomfortable when it starts to rain. He always squirms and pales when lightning flashes or thunder rolls, and his breathing hitches when heavy raindrops start to fall from the sky.

Castiel never talks about why he gets so antsy and disturbed. He's got his own skeletons in his closet. Sam isn't nosy about it; he's never the one who tries to suck it out of him. Sam understands that Castiel doesn't want to talk about it and just lets it go. There are things which people want to keep private, so that's why the younger Winchester never insists for Castiel to answer his questions about it.

Dean is lot harder to deal with. Castiel knows that the older Winchester won't bother him with "why aren't you talking to me?", "what's wrong?", or "what are you hiding from me?" But his silence is worse. His wordless questions are bothering Castiel. Dean's hurt eyes are painful to watch and it does nothing to improve the ex-angel's spoiled mood. Castiel feels horrible for doing this to the man who's the reason for his fall and rebirth.

Dean Winchester has to thank the heavens for his sharp hunter's instincts (even though he's hesitant to thank the heavens for a damn thing). His sleep is broken in the middle of the night and his heart almost stops beating when he realizes that he's alone in the bed. Lightning flashes and Dean curses loudly. Who knows how long it's been since Castiel wandered off and God knows where he is.

The hunter's panic gets worse when he cannot find Castiel in the bunker. He's checked every room and corner, but the ex-angel is nowhere to be seen.

He's standing in the middle of the living room, ready to yell Sam's name and ask for help, when loud creaking gets his attention. It's the front door and Dean runs towards it, grabbing his knife tightly in his fist.

Castiel is sitting in a small puddle of water while rain is pouring down on him. The ex-angel has his arms wrapped around himself and his face buried in his knees. His clothes are soaked and Castiel is shivering. Someone kneels beside him in the mud.

"Cas…" A broken whisper.

Castiel raises his head and turns to Dean. His gaze is empty and it's scary.

"What are you doing here, Cas?" It takes a lot of Dean's strength to stay calm, as not to frighten the already anxious ex-angel.

"They are falling… like my brothers and sisters…" Castiel rasps and leans forward, hiding his face in Dean's neck.

It takes Dean a minute to realize what Castiel is talking about. So this is why he hates rain so much. Raindrops remind him of angels falling. Dean wraps his hands around Castiel, pressing him to his chest.

"We can fix this. You know we always find a way," he says reassuringly. "Because we're the Winchesters and that's what we do. As for the rain, don't forget that it's always followed by the sun."

Dean helps Castiel to his feet, taking him into the bunker. While the hunter is taking wet clothes off of him and drying the brunette's messy hair, Castiel has enough time to think about Dean's words. He knows that the hunter was not talking about the weather when he mentioned the sun and what he meant was that no matter how bad things look, there is always hope that things will get better.


End file.
